The Wayside
by NemesisVariant
Summary: Bucky Barnes is on the run after the events of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s disbandment, determined to take down Hydra and remember his past. But something is very, very wrong with him, and he doesn't know what it is or how to save himself.
1. On the Way to Nowhere

The Wayside

Words didn't make sense at times. If he was speaking, or being spoken to, or reading words on pages or recording them on the paper, his mind would just go blank and he didn't know why. Maybe he lost a couple of minutes, maybe he didn't. Living alone, and probably forever, it was impossible for Bucky Barnes to know.

Recovering after a moment of resting his head back on the pillow, he diligently arose to record the incident in his notebook. Noted the symptoms. Disorientation, nausea, a headache that could have easily beaten any hangover he'd had in the past. Just pain in general, but that he could deal with. He was fine, really, just fine.

It had been about a week since the Winter Soldier had come face-to-face with Steve Rogers for the first time- rather, what had seemed like the first time. An assignment was all, a target prepped and ready for a bullet, just like the other few he remembered. But Rogers, Captain America, was different. He'd just said one word, and that sent the first remnants of the past crashing into him. _Bucky? _ Then came the re-education, the destruction of the Helicarriers, and the battle that both he and Rogers had walked away from, but not before Bucky had almost committed the murder of who he now knew to be his best friend. Terror had become him in that struggle, looking down at his target and hearing _I'm with you, 'til the end of the line._ It had clicked in his mind, and no matter what, he couldn't go through with it. Nor could he let him die, so after ensuring the Captain hadn't drowned, Bucky fled.

_Why?_ He thought, sitting at the desk, clenching and unclenching his fist, specifically the metal one. But he knew his own reasons: he wanted to find the rest of Hydra and take them down. He wanted to recover the rest of his memory. Lastly, something he couldn't remember feeling before. Shame.

But he wasn't going to dwell on that.

He stumbled into the bathroom, flicking the light switch and staring into the mirror. After a glance at some magazines, he'd come to the conclusion that his old haircut would do just fine, maybe help him gain some form of normality. But he still looked pale, strained, sick. That had started just after the destruction of S.H.E.I.L.D.

The cold water helped to wake him up some, then he set to immediately packing his things. He didn't have much, just things he'd picked up from the grouping of stores around the corner from the motel he was staying at a couple days prior. New clothes, a baseball cap, a toothbrush, a backpack, a pocket atlas, and a burner phone- which still fascinated him. What would his old Commander think of such a straight-shooter becoming a pickpocket? Bucky guessed he'd been a straight-laced kind of soldier from the biography at the museum. He'd looked so much younger in that picture…

He shrugged the backpack and a thick jacket on, even though the weather was probably too hot for it in the spring in Arizona. It had been fine in Virginia, but past that, it was like a sauna. But Bucky was being extra careful that no one saw his arm. Gloves were a must as well, and were even more awkward to deal with than the coat.

At the moment, he wasn't focusing on any of his goals, he just wanted to get away and stay on the move. Letting Steve find him now would be… no, it just couldn't happen. He thought that maybe California would be a good way to head. If kind truck drivers or bus drivers were frequent enough, he could probably make it there tonight.

When he passed the front desk, he muttered to the overweight man with mustard on his shirt behind the counter that he was checking out. The man didn't respond because he was still asleep. _Guess I don't have to pay then._

He started walking, hoping to try a bus station before hitting the highway. His stomach growled noisily, and he tried to ignore it. Food hadn't been exactly common over the last couple days, so Bucky tried to ignore the hunger as best he could. At this point, though, it was bad enough that his stomach was starting to hurt.

He made a detour into a gas station, a Sunoco. His eyes searched the shelves, trying to decide what he could actually afford with the few crumpled dollars in his back pocket.

There was a commotion at the front of the store, but Bucky paid it no mind, assuming it was just another customer coming in the store or something. Then there was shouting, and he glanced up.

Three men in masks stood at the front of the store. Two had pistols, another with what appeared to be an Uzi and who was obviously the leader. The clerk was terrified, a kid probably just out of his teens. The leader shouted for the money in the register, and the boy hesitated only a moment before he opened the register with a shivering hand.

Bucky crouched behind an end cap, gazing around the store. Only the clerk, the robbers, and he were in the store. It was early enough that the street outside was deserted. He focused on the robbers, and noticed that their weapons had the safeties off, the hammers pulled back, ready to fire. It clicked into place that they would kill the clerk even though he was cooperating.

Deciding what to do wasn't hard, exactly, because Bucky was automatically filled with anger that someone would willingly do what he'd once been forced to. So he swiftly pulled himself on top of the shelf and crouched, making his way slowly, silently, to the front of the store.

The robbers didn't notice him, they were to busy yelling for the kid to go faster. The clerk was crying now, silently, tears wetting his face as he shoved the money into the bag one of them had handed him.

Bucky stopped at the edge of the shelf, deciding which to take out first. _The leader. He has the best weapon, seems way more intent on killing than the others. Would cause chaos among the troops. _

The clerk tried to wipe away his tears, glancing up just in time to see a man fling himself off the top of a shelf and kick one of the robbers across the store, shattering the front of a refrigerator. One screamed in fury, raising his weapon to the new threat. Bucky spun, grabbing the gun and pointing it at the last robber. The gun emptied a clip before the robber released the trigger and his partner dropped to the ground, bloodied and no longer breathing.

Bucky squeezed the man's wrist, feeling the bones shatter and hearing him shriek simultaneously. The gun fell to the ground, and he pivoted, driving his elbow into the robber's nose. He dropped like a sack of bricks and didn't move again.

A flicker of movement, from the other side of the store. The leader stood and raised his weapon. A knife appeared in Bucky's hand- he had saved it from his Winter Soldier gear- and he threw it in a blur. It struck, tearing through the leader's heart and smacked the back wall with a heavy _clang_.

Bucky took a moment to steady his breathing, then kneeled by the robber with the broken wrist and fractured face. He was still alive. Bucky's eyes flickered to the clerk, who was peeking over the counter with something between fear and awe. "I need something to tie him up."

The clerk just blinked at him and Bucky sighed, standing and leaning over the counter. As the kid cowered, Bucky understood that he was more frightened of him than the robbers at this point. Trying for a softer tone of voice, he asked "Are you okay? They didn't hurt you or anything?"

A head shake, some of the fear being replaced by relief. "N-no, I'm fine."

"Good. Then unless you want this guy to wake up before the police get here, could you tell me where to find something to tie him up with?"

"Um, like w-what?"

"I dunno. Rope? Zip ties?" The robber stirred on the ground and Bucky delivered a kick to his gut. The man groaned but didn't stir much more. "Maybe duct tape?"

Still shivering, the kid moved around the counter and into the aisles. He emerged a few moments later with a role of duct tape. He held it out hesitantly to Bucky like he might lose his hand if he moved too fast. Bucky accepted it, and soon the robber was wrapped up in a grey, slightly shiny cocoon.

Satisfied that the robber wouldn't get free, Bucky tossed the tape away and walked back to where he had been browsing the food items, picked up a bag of chips and a Pepsi.

The kid was on the phone when Bucky returned. "…and then, then this guy comes out of nowhere and, holy shit, I think he's a ninja or something-" Then, he noticed Bucky standing at the end of the aisle and muttered "I have to go," and hung up.

He looked shocked to see Bucky set the items in front of him. "What're you doing?"

"Um, buying food. Maybe. Just a second." He pulled out the bills and counted them, his heart sinking when he realized he didn't even have enough for the drink. "I guess not, then."

"Are you kidding?" the clerk asked, who Bucky saw had a nametag reading 'Geoff'. "Just take it, man. On the house."

"Really?"

Geoff squinted at him as if he had two heads. "You just saved my life. Take the freaking shelf for all I care."

Bucky turned and strode back down the aisle, grabbing a few more items to hide his smile. "Well, thanks."

"No, thank _you_." Geoff paused when Bucky made his way to the door. "You're not waiting for the cops?"

"Hell no," Bucky replied, knowing he had to move fast to get to California. He let the door swing shut behind him, not hearing Geoff's following question if he was a ninja.

Ten minutes later, he was on a bus headed West, enjoying the fact that his belly was full, glad the kid was okay. _Is this what Steve feels like?_ He wondered, leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes.

_Of course not,_ a vicious voice snarled in the back of his mind. _Rogers isn't a mass murderer, he's not an assassin, you are, and you won't be like him. You're kidding yourself, Barnes. You aren't a hero._

Bucky opened his eyes and lifted his arm from the metal rest, noticing that he had accidentally crushed it. And it was starting to get dark. He had missed almost a whole day. He knew there was something very, very wrong with him but wouldn't admit it. If he could just keep going, and take down Hydra, and remember all of who he was, he could… he could…

Bucky reached into his backpack and pulled out his notebook, diligently noting the incident and it's symptoms: Disorientation, nausea, a headache like the robber wrapped up in duct tape on the floor of a Sunoco was bound to have. Just pain in general, but that he could deal with.

He was fine, really. Just…fine.


	2. The Service of Liars and Killers

Chapter Two

Bucky stepped off the bus, glancing at his surroundings in the light of the setting sun. It was colder here than in Arizona, and he pulled his jacket tight around his shoulders. He was farther north than he had intended to be, but that was fine, he was making good time.

He pulled out his cell phone and checked the time, which took a few minutes to get the clock to appear. About 7 pm. _Did I really just lose almost twelve hours?_ He shook his head and replaced the phone in his pocket, trying not to think too much about it. A glance around, no one was looking at him.

Bucky walked on, hoping to come across another crappy motel to stay the night. The strange thing, when he lost time, was that it didn't feel like the time had passed mentally. It was still 7:30 in the morning for him, he had just saved the cashier at the gas station. The only difference was the sky, and slightly slower movements. Still, maybe he could find a computer and try doing some research into HYDRA.

He mentally groaned at the thought of research. That kind of thing wasn't really his strong suit, especially after his time as the Winter Soldier, constantly being told what to do instead of being able to figure things out for himself. Figuring that out was going to be a hassle.

A glance around his vicinity didn't reveal any motels, but he did see a bar, and couldn't remember actually having alcohol before. Maybe it wasn't the best idea, with the blackouts, but since one had just occurred he figured he was safe. They never seemed to happen one right after the other.

The place was loud but the lights were rather dim, so it didn't aggravate his headache very much. Bucky sat at an empty spot at the bar and ordered a beer, figuring he'd have to steal money again to pay. _What a dumb thing to have to steal for. Stupid idea, Barnes._

He waited for the bartender to return and cancel the alcohol, not feeling like being even more of an asshole. A few more people clustered around the bar beside him, jostling him in his seat. _Why is this place so damn crowded? It's only…_ he counted in his head. _It's Tuesday. Is everyone else unemployed and on the run as well, with nothing better to do?_

"James Buchanan Barnes."

Bucky froze as his name was whispered in his ear. His full name. He only figured that out a week ago. Someone here knew him, and only an enemy speaks a name with malice like that. HYDRA had found him. _This isn't how this's supposed to go, _I'm _supposed to find _them_. How did they find me? What's going to happen?_

Bucky forced down his panic and slowly turned to face the speaker. A guy in a suit, with spiky brown hair and black eyes. Bucky recognized him with a jolt: the agent had often overseen his brainwashing treatments. His name was Saunders.

Saunders smiled humorlessly at the fear that flickered across Bucky's face. "You're a long way from home, soldier. Time to return to base."

Bucky's eyes flickered around. Why hadn't he seen it earlier? So many people in a bar that should have been deserted. _They must have the whole block cordoned off!_

He felt pressure on his shoulders and glanced up, spying two men in similar attire to Saunders. "I am _not _going back," he snarled, surprising himself with the anger in his voice.

While the two agents who held Bucky flinched and almost pulled away, Saunders only smiled a little wider. "Of course you are. There are more targets out there, just sitting there, waiting for you to slaughter them." He leaned in a little closer and Bucky forced himself not to move. "You were always so easily manipulated, Barnes. Perfect for the program. It's what you were made for."

Somewhere in his mind, the vicious voice agreed with Saunders, willing him to just give it up, it's not like he had any hope anyway, might as well just-

_NO. _In an almost involuntary action, he lashed out, striking Saunders in the throat and tossing him off the bar stool. Bucky front-flipped over the counter, breaking the agents' holds just as the shooting started.

Bucky huddled behind the bar, feeling the wood shudder with each strike of the bullet. It took him a moment to realize he wasn't alone. The bartender was there too, shotgun clamped to his chest and shivering. When Bucky motioned urgently for the gun, he was all too happy to give it up and curl into a bar on the floor.

The former Winter Soldier paused, counting the shots until they fell silent. Then, he rose up from behind the bar, firing the first shot. _Spread shot, _he noted, seeing both agents be flung backward. He counted quickly; four more, all armed, seemingly disoriented by the resistance. That wouldn't last long.

Bucky vaulted over the bar, lunging forward and swinging the gun in a wide arch, bringing it down on the agent's head, who then crumpled to the ground. He crouched by him, retrieving the agents' gun and firing three shots. All reached their destinations before any of them could even fire again.

He stood quickly, hearing the retching cough from near the bar. Slipping the pistol into his pocket, he retrieved the shotgun and strode over to Saunders.

Saunders looked up at the form that towered over him, staring at him with pitiless eyes and pressing the barrel of the gun between his eyes. If there's one thing that could be said about the Winter Soldier, it was that he always got his target. _Now I'm his target._

Saunders was sputtering something- a plea? Bucky didn't know. "You listen to me, Saunders. I am not your pawn, I am not your plaything, and there is no way _in hell _that I'm going back with you."

"P-please don't shoot me," Saunders whimpered, eyes crossed and trained on the shotgun.

Bucky seemed to consider this, then sighed, lowering the gun and letting it drop to the floor. "Maybe we can compromise."

Saunders relaxed a fraction, just for a moment. Then Bucky's fist connected with his jaw, a light exploded over his vision, and he saw no more.

Bucky sighed and looked around at the bodies on the ground. Second time today he'd gotten into a fight. _Maybe one day, I'll be in a position where I don't actually _have _to kill anyone. _He glanced around; anyone else who had been in the bar had fled when they sensed a fight about to break out. Probably didn't expect one of this magnitude.

He set the shotgun on the bar and glanced down at the bartender. "Sorry 'bout all this." Then, he exited.

_So HYDRA's looking for me while I'm looking for them. Like my job wasn't hard enough, _Bucky mused with irritation, watching police cars zoom past him, none hesitating at the figure walking down the street alone.

After a few blocks, he stopped and sat down at a bench, taking out Saunders' phone and paging through it. It was mostly clean, except for the last ten messages from a conversation with someone named Don Caballero.

ME: He's just getting off the bus now

DC: Positive ID?

ME: Positive

DC: Any signs that the Failsafe is in affect?

ME: Hard to say. He's having trouble with his phone

DC: Understandably. I don't need a play-by-play, Agent.

ME: Sorry sir

ME: We're moving into position, the area is secure

DC: Be careful, Agent. Barnes is one of the deadliest operatives we've ever had. If the past is anything to go on, he won't hesitate to destroy you if he remembers you.

ME: I've got this boss. Will report later

Bucky frowned, dedicating the name 'Don Caballero' to memory, powering the phone down. _Is this the head of HYDRA? The true head, the one that won't come back if cut off?_

He tossed the phone to the ground, stood up, and crushed it with the heel of his boot. Glancing around, he saw a building larger than the rest. Upon approaching it, he saw it was a library. _Just the place to look up a sinister organization's mailing address._

Bucky entered and was immediately approached by a smiling, young librarian. "Good evening, sir. Do you need help with anything?"

"Do you have a computer somewhere I can use?" he asked, hoping he didn't seem abnormal in any sense. The library seemed to be scrutinizing him rather closely, it was a little unnerving.

"Of course. Just sign your name in the book over there and have at it. Luckily, there isn't a line." She didn't say that with much conviction, and Bucky doubted if there was hardly ever a line. She noticed him glancing around the small building. "Not a local, are you?"

"No, just passing through."

"Aww, that's too bad."

_What's that supposed to mean? _There was a silence that seemed a bit awkward, then she stepped aside. "Well, don't let me hold you up." Then, she was gone. _Did I do that right?_

Not wanting his real name down on paper- it didn't feel right, and it also wasn't smart- Bucky signed 'Steven R.'.

He realized quickly that his metal hand wasn't suitable for typing, so it took him even longer to get started one-handed. After figuring out how to access the internet and pulling up a search engine, it didn't take Bucky that much longer to figure out that Don Caballero was probably an alias. There were few mentions of anyone by that name, and the ones that did exist were stockbrokers or chefs from Wyoming or something. Overall, nothing of use.

Bucky sighed, leaning back and wiping his eyes. The tiredness and stress were finally catching up to him, and he had maybe three dollars to his name. Where the hell was he going to stay? Even when working for HYDRA, he'd had funds sufficient enough that he wasn't out on the streets. Bucky had read that he'd been behind enemy lines before, but this situation was different even from that.

After clearing the computer's history- _Getting the hang of those things_- he quickly exited the building before the librarian could spot him again. It was around 9 o'clock now, and as he passed a storefront with a TV, he saw a news report about five men dead, two wounded, in a local bar. Bucky sighed, rubbing his temple and trying to clear the lingering headache. Staying here wouldn't do him any good; that bartender was bound to remember his face. _Just sleep on the bus, _he thought, before remembering that he'd need to pass the bar to get to the rest stop.

He walked, and though his headache was gone, his body was sore from the last few days. Stopping by a stand, he used his remaining money to buy a large thermos full of coffee. The coffee wasn't actually supposed to be included in the price, but the stall keeper felt pity for the man, who seemed to be newly-homeless and possibly ill. Bucky downed most of it as he strode away, but it did nothing to cut through the exhaustion.

What seemed to be a common occurrence were people sleeping in doorways, Bucky noticed. _Do they think it keeps them warmer? It doesn't look like it would. _But he saw no other option, so he chose a doorway and tried to sleep.

As he finally drifted off, he was struck with the ridiculous notion that the doorway would keep him safe, and wondered if that was what everyone else thought too.

**Wow, there was a huge response to this story! I just want to thank everyone who took the time to read it, and I hope you continue to read new chapters as they are published. Yeah, there will be more. (Had to come up with a full story for something I originally intended to be a one-shot, so I hope you'll like it.)**


	3. Stories and Strays

Chapter Three

_The sky was the color of ice, and snow brushed his face. It wasn't cold. For a moment, it was almost pleasant to just lay there and not really think, his senses dulled by the gale._

_But the memory of the mission soon came rushing back; he and Steve being separated, the armored HYDRA soldier blasting him through the side of the train, Steve yelling for him to grab his hand even as Bucky was falling._

"_Steve!" he yelled, immediately letting out a scream of pain. It was so intense in his left arm that he couldn't move it, couldn't even feel it. He glanced over at it and felt bile rising in his throat. Bones weren't supposed to bend like that, weren't supposed to jut through the skin. His chest was on fire, was covered in red like fire, vision blurring like fire. __**Why am I alive?**_

_There was no sound other than the roar of the wind, but suddenly men stood over him, uniforms with the HYDRA insignia on the shoulder. __**Get away! **__He urged himself, desperately trying to scramble away with his good arm, though the term 'good' was used loosely._

_The soldiers looked on for a moment without doing anything. They're waiting for me to give up. He wouldn't. He kept moving, though it was a fraction of an inch at a time, and black spots began to overcome the red. He wouldn't, he wouldn't._

_Finally, the soldiers decided that they had enough. One of them kneeled beside Bucky and placed a hand on his left shoulder. That was enough to send Bucky to the ground, shrieking with agony, and his vision failed him._

The man in the doorway stirred in his slumber, occasionally letting out short whimpering sounds. People who passed paid him no notice, until another a group of mostly teenagers paused, giggling and clearly drunk, and the leader dared an underling to go through the backpack at the man's side.

_Lights swung overhead, driving a spike through his skull. The men dressed in white seemed preoccupied with filling several needles with a deep blue liquid and paid no mention to Bucky's mutterings. He was sure that this would be some type of interrogation, so he steeled himself as much as his cloudy mind would allow, muttering his rank, his serial number, his name._

_He thought the pain was bad before. This was worse, when they plunged the needles into his arms and shoulders, because it refused to let him black out. A persistent rush of electricity, heat burning through him, and thoughts of interrogation deserted him._

_Bucky still called out, first to those still swarming around him, but they didn't even spare him a glance. Dugan, Morita, Falsworth, Jones, and Dernier came next, the members of his Howling Commandos, up on that train where he should be. Mary, Barbara, and William, his siblings who he didn't want anywhere near here, they were still kids, __**Please let them be safe.**_

_**Steve! **__He shouted his name the most, even as the last needle came down on his neck and a weight settled on his head. He was still a kid, too, really. Coherent thought, let alone words, were scarce by that point, so he didn't notice at first that faces and names slid away. Steve's was the last to go._

"_A-anybody?" he whispered. He could tell that there wouldn't ever be an answer as his vision finally went black._

With a shout he sat up, startling the three boys into jumping back. Bucky spied one with a backpack, and it took him a moment to recognize that it belonged to him. "Give that back. Now."

"Or what?" the leader asked, grabbing the backpack from his friend and turning it over, spilling the contents to the ground. A toothbrush, an atlas, an extra shirt, and his phone hit the dirty ground. He then shook the backpack, and when he did, three knives clattered on the pavement. Seeing this, his two friend backed up considerably, but the leader just smirked.

Without taking his eyes off the boy, Bucky collected his things, feeling his pulse thud in his veins from anger. He forced himself to keep a lid on it. It was punks like this he'd protected Steve from when they were younger, he remembered, with a slight tremor that forced him to drop his phone again. _Not worth my time._

The leader and one of the others laughed loudly at the fumble, but the last one- less drunk than the rest, maybe not drunk at all- glanced around nervously at the look in Bucky's eyes and didn't join in. "Alright guys, let's give the man a break."

The leader ceased his laughter and frowned at the one who had spoken up. "Why's that, Nick? Scared?"

Nick's eyes darted to Bucky's, green meeting dark blue with increasing discomfort. "Um, yeah. He's got knives in his bag, Jace."

"Doubt he could-" Jace hiccuped slightly, his face turning a shade redder. "Doubt he could use 'em."

"Why'd you say that?" It took all three boys a moment to realize that it was Bucky who had spoken. He'd used a much lighter, more amicable tone than before. While Jace seemed to gain a little confidence in this, Nick got the impression that 'dangerous' wouldn't begin to describe this man.

"Sick as a damn dog, you-" he rattled off some poorly-placed curse words, some that may or may not have been made up. Al, the last boy and the oldest at 19, grinned stupidly at this. Nick refused to smile, instead backing up slightly as the homeless man smiled quietly in return.

"Well, maybe I am sick," Bucky replied, standing up. At this, Jace and Al took a half step back in confusion; Bucky was at least half a foot taller than Al, who was the tallest of the group. "But I most certainly could use them, and I have. Not now, though, so why don't you hand me that bag and be on your way?"

Either Jace missed the thinly veiled threat or chose to ignore it, because he grinned up at the man- _How doesn't he see a threat here? _Nick thought- and tossed the backpack into a puddle, where it hit with a splash.

Bucky paused for a second, then strode over to collect it, jostling Jace as he moved past. The backpack was soaking wet, and probably useless by the time he retrieved it. "Thanks," he said. "Could've done that without so much bitching, but, hey, guess I can't have everything."

Jace blinked, dumbfounded. "B-bitching-" he spluttered, incredibly confused, which made Nick smile. The only real reason he hung around with Jace and Al was so that they wouldn't do this kind of shit to him, like they had to his friends and...

"Also, drinking probably isn't doing much for your decision-making skills, so you should probably head on home. You, and your buddies," Bucky nodded to Al, then to Nick.

"Maybe he's right," Nick blurted out, and Jace turned to him. "I mean, you had your fun and-"

Jace laid a hand on Nick's shoulder and glared down at him, making the younger boy cower slightly. "Shut your damn mouth, Nick. The hell you think you're doing? You'd've been runnin' scared without us, or dead in a gutter. I can still make that happen, you-"

Thoroughly pissed off, some protective instinct in Bucky surfaced and he shoved Jace hard on his shoulder, and sent him to the ground. Not too hard, though. He thought Jace wouldn't make good on his threats, he couldn't be sure, and Bucky didn't like hurting kids, even if they were almost adults and every bit as dumb as they were in kindergarten.

He moved and stood in front of the shocked Nick, eyeing Jace and Al with distaste, and growled, "Pick on someone your own size."

Al swung his fist and Nick flinched, but Bucky simply caught it and spun him around, kicking him on the rear so that he landed on top of Jace. Jace swore, shoving Al off of him and scrambling to his feet. He clenched his fists, but didn't look very inclined to continue the 'fight'.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at the two bullies. "Done?"

They were gone within that second.

Bucky heard a hesitant cough behind him, and turned to see Nick with his phone in his hand. Shivering slightly, he held it out for Bucky to take. "Sorry."

"It's fine," Bucky replied, taking the phone and putting it in his jacket pocket. "Trust me, they're small fish."

"Yeah, I kinda got that impression." He glanced nervously at the weapons which still lay on the asphalt. "But, you know, Jace and them aren't like that for, like, most people. Or kids, or whatever."

"Yeah?" Bucky wondered idly, scooping up the rest of his possessions and stuffing them into various pockets.

"Yeah, they run the five blocks 'round the school and the home. Even worse to the younger ones, or scrawny ones, like me and my sis. Got the teachers all on his side, like he's the perfect student and whatnot, them and the cops since his uncle's one. And you just stood up to 'im like it was nothing."

"I did." After a moment, he turned to see Nick staring at him expectantly. "And?"

"He's gonna come back for me, probably, and my sister and-"

"And you want help stopping him?"

Nick lowered his head and stared at his shoes. "Maybe."

Bucky sighed. "How old are you, Nick?"

"Fifteen. Sixteen in three months."

"And your sister?"

"...she's ten. Almost eleven. We were born around the same time of the year."

"And you've got no one lookin' after you who could help? Parents, relatives, friends?"

Nick bit his lip and wouldn't meet Bucky's gaze. "Please, I just… a few months ago, Casey- my sister- got beat up by 'em. She didn't have any money or anything, they just thought it was fun. They said they wanted either me or her to join or it would happen again. It isn't just them, they're, like, a gang or something. They call themselves the Arcane."

"Why'd they want you to join?"

The teen shifted, gazing down the alley as if he was debating whether to leave or not. "Casey's really, really smart, so they probably had a use for her. Me? I'm not much of anything, probably just to mess with. Look, this was a bad idea, thanks for helping-"

Bucky held up his right hand and Nick stopped rambling. "Alright, I'll help, but whatever we do, we need to do it tonight. I'm leaving in the morning."

Nick nodded several times, grinning with relief as he did so. "Yeah, okay, we can do that. Maybe I could get Joey and Alicia to help, probably-"

"It wouldn't be a good idea to get anyone else involved, at this point. We're alone, for now."

"Fine," Nick said, spirits dropping slightly, before they picked up again. "So, what should I call you? You know my name's Nick, but…?"

Bucky hesitated. If HYDRA was still tracking him, or were still in the area, the less this kid knew about him, the better. In fact, it would've been better to leave this whole business alone, but he couldn't turn his back on Nick. "...James is fine."

"Okay then," Nick held out his left hand. After it became clear that Bucky wasn't going to shake, he sheepishly stuck his hand in his pocket. "So, James, we gonna make a plan, or what?"

**Author's note: Hello! Thank you so much for stopping by and giving this story a chance. It's been getting a lot of attention (more than I ever thought it would. I mean, holy crap, 80 followers?!) so I just wanted to say thanks to everyone who's read it and commented, and those who continue to read and comment. You all rock, seriously. Also, updates may not be quite as frequent as they have been (I don't want to totally abandon my other fanfic for Grimm, and I'm really trying to balance time) but I promise I will get them published as quickly as I'm able. Hope you're having a great day!**

**~Nemesis**


	4. The Devil Left Behind

**So I haven't mentioned in my other chapters, but I do not own any of the characters in this story. I am not from Marvel. Maybe one day, though… *daydream sequence occurs***

Chapter Four

"I need you to tell me everything you know about the Arcane."

"Hey, at least wait until we're inside, alright?" Nick requested, lowering his voice so that he wouldn't draw any attention on the sidewalk, littered sparsely with people now that it was starting to become dawn. "Not exactly something you talk about in public, y'know?"

Bucky frowned, glancing around. "Inside?"

"Yeah, just over here." They stood in front of a small, well-kept diner, a painted sign reading 'Aischa's' hanging over the door. "Aischa's a friend, isn't on board with Jace and them. I work here, too."

Inside the café, it was almost deserted. Two kids around Nick's age stood around a dusty terminal in the corner, the girl actually playing the game. The boy stared on in amazement.

A middle-aged woman glanced up from behind the counter and smiled at Nick. "Hey, kid! Didn't think you had a shift today…" Then, she noticed Bucky standing beside him, looking increasingly awkward in the middle of the room. "Who's this, Nick?"

"Aischa, this is James. He's, um…" Nick walked forward to the counter and spoke quietly to the woman.

After a moment, she turned and scowled at Bucky, though she still addressed Nick. "So, let me get this straight. Some homeless guy pisses off a couple of the Arcane's adolescent goons, so you think it's perfectly alright to trust him? Where's your head?"

One of the teens, the girl, spun around and gaped at Nick. "You screwed with the Arcane?"

"No, I-"

"That's rough," the other boy said, turning and leaning against the wall. "They probably won't forget it."

Nick stared at him a moment, then his eyes widened. "Casey! She's still at the home-"

"I can go get her," the girl volunteered, and was gone in a flash. The graphics of the game were still flashing, irritating Bucky's head, but he didn't say anything.

"Are they really coming after you this time, Nick?" Aischa asked, her voice softening.

"There's a good chance, yeah. We need to stop them before anything can happen to, to Casey and you guys. And me."

Bucky glanced at where the boy and girl had been and made the connection. "I'm guessing you're Joey, and the girl who just ran out is Alicia?"

"Um, yeah. How did you know?" Joey asked, a little unnerved to be addressed by the man.

"Nick mentioned you. You knew they'd be here, even after I said that we wouldn't get anyone else involved." Bucky wasn't mad, exactly, but a little exasperated with how stubborn this boy was.

Nick found something very interesting to stare at on the far wall. "They can help."

"Yeah, there has to be… something I can do…" Joey spoke up, trying to meet Bucky's eyes but to no avail. _What's with people and eye contact?_

"Maybe there would be, and maybe there wouldn't, but I'm having a problem with even Nick being tied to this, so take it easy."

As Joey seemed to calm, Aischa made her way from behind the counter to look up at Bucky with a glare. She seemed to have no problem holding his gaze. "Look, James? It's great that you want to take down the Arcane and all, but I'm not letting you put Nick in any danger. Got it?"

Bucky nodded. "Looks like we see eye-to-eye on this. I'm not even sure what we're gonna do yet, or what the Arcane are doing that's causing the panic 'round here. But I'll make sure Nick stays safe. And his sister, and his friends." _This's gonna be one hell of a mission…_

-break-

Captain Steve Rogers glanced over at Sam Wilson, who was completely focused on his phone as the scenery outside flew by in a blur. He knew that his friend was pissed that he wasn't going to be flying to the small Arizona town- Steve had insisted that they stick together, in case there was any trouble on the way. Whether that trouble was HYDRA, or whether it was Bucky himself. _Why doesn't he want to be found? _Steve wondered for the millionth time, turning off onto the main street, sadness lingering in his chest.

It must have shown on his face, because when Sam glanced over at him, he sighed and set the phone down. "We're gonna find him, Cap. Eventually."

"Yeah, I know. It's just, you know, it's been over a week. This is our tenth lead, and the others didn't exactly bear results."

"So, we need to keep on searching. It's the only way we'll ever get to him." Sam glanced at the stack of papers on the backseat of the car. "Find anything more in those files?"

"I've gone over them so many times, I think my brain's turning to mush. It looks like most of the important stuff wasn't included in that file, or any that got on the web. You wanna take a look?"

"Later," Sam muttered, eyes flickering to his phone. "We're here. The robbery was yesterday morning. Three guys broke in and held the cashier at gunpoint. According to the kid, 'A ninja with super powers saved his ass, bought some snacks, and walked out like he did it every day'."

Steve raised an eyebrow and put the car in 'park' outside the gas station. He couldn't imagine the Winter Soldier going out of his way to save a civilian like that. _Maybe he's getting better._

After a quick chat with the cashier- still absolutely ecstatic from the previous day's events- Steve knew that his savior _had _been Bucky. Viewing the knife he'd left embedded in the wall, which even Steve had some difficulty removing, only confirmed this. "Did he give any indication where he was headed?"

"Um, no sir," Geoff the cashier stammered, mentally freaking out that Captain America was interviewing him. "I mean, he kinda left in a hurry. I asked around and no one's seen him since, but there is a bus station not too far away, he might've skipped town."

Steve and Sam thanked him, then made their way back to the car, Steve optimistic for the first time since the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D.

"The Captain and the Falcon are tracking him, too," the HYDRA operative muttered into his comm from his vantage point across the street. "Next move?"

"Follow them," a lightly accented voice commanded, that of the operative's handler. "Even if they do not find Barnes before we do, keeping tabs on them cannot hurt."

"Very well." Then the line went dead.

-break-

"The Arcane have been around for a couple of years. At least around here, I don't know if they were anywhere else before that, but Jace mentioned a few times living in L.A. before. Anyway, their leader is Cyrus Henley, who goes by Voron-"

"Russian. Raven," Bucky mentioned, scratching at the shoulder of his jacket in discomfort. The bionic arm would need maintenance soon or there would be glitches, as there had been occasionally in the past after so much wear and tear. But for now it was only irritating.

"You speak Russian?" Joey asked from beside Nick, raising an impressed eyebrow.

"Some. Sorry, go on."

"Voron is their leader. After that, it's mostly underlings like Jace and Al, but there are a couple 'a lieutenants, like Jace's uncle Damian, who's a cop, and Raphael, no one really knows where he came from but some people think he's ex-military."

Aischa drifted over to them and Nick paused in his explanation. "What can I get you to eat, Nick? James?"

"What about me?" Joey mock-whined, slumping in his chair.

"You never finished your fries and left them on the Pac-Man machine. Go get them if you're hungry. Now, for you guys?"

"Pancakes would be great," Nick replied, seeming relieved that Aischa wasn't angry anymore.

"Um, no thank you," Bucky muttered, well aware that he wouldn't be buying anything for a while.

Aischa seemed to understand. "Coffee's free."

"…alright." Then, she was gone, behind the counter and through a door. Bucky turned back to Nick. "What are the Arcane doing that's wrong? Other than that little punk tryin' to threaten you."

"They have the whole thing goin' where businesses will get a visit from Voron himself. He'll go on this whole spiel that the town's getting' rougher and if you pay a 'small' fine, he and his friends can protect you. Some go along with it, some don't. The ones who don't are usually burned down or robbed or-"

"Mr. Denning's died last week," Joey recalled with a frown. "Car crash, they said, but he's been scheming against Voron's gang for months. It sucks, he was a cool guy."

"-or that happens. Didn't stop at stores either. Recently, Raphael's been going door-to-door in apartment buildings, pulling the same bullshit with residents. They've got everyone runnin' scared. Us included."

"How did Aischa get out of that treatment?" Bucky asked, lowering his voice and casting a glance at the kitchen.

"She didn't. Initially, she bargained and only pays part of the fine, but it's- it's only a matter of time before something happens to her too."

_Poor kid sounds terrified. _"Alright. Do they have a base of operations?"

"Sort of. Voron owns a warehouse and he's there a lot of the time, but I don't know what goes on there."

There was probably enough evidence there to make something stick in court. Before Bucky could ask where the warehouse was, Nick's phone rang and he quickly answered it. "Hello? Alicia, hey. Is Casey there? Oh thank god…" he stood and strode over to the other side of the café.

Joey stared at Bucky, hand on his chin thoughtfully. "So…"

"Yeah?"

"What're you doin' here? In Saynor." _Must be the town's name. _Bucky hadn't bothered to check. "It's not exactly a popular tourist spot, brother."

Bucky shrugged, wincing slightly as two plates in his arm scraped against each other. "Prime real estate's not exactly in my price range. I'm just moving around."

Joey had seen him flinch and frowned. "You alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Aischa finally reappeared, setting down Bucky's coffee and two plates of pancakes. "On the house, James, just this once."

Kindness was still strange to Bucky. Most of what he remembered clearly was the farthest thing from kindness, but he'd slowly been seeing it in people now that he was free. First in Steve, trying desperately to make him remember. _I still don't, not really. _Then in a truck driver who had let him hitch a ride in New Mexico. Person after person. "Thank you, Aischa."

Nick returned, smiling widely. "Alright, Casey's with Alicia and they're taking a bus to the coast for the day. She's confused, but she's safe." He let out a little sigh of relief. "Casey's kinda bummed for not going to school, but the ocean's gonna make up for that."

"Oh yeah, we have school. It started, like, half an hour ago." Joey noticed, glancing at his watch. "Well, I ain't going. I'm takin' down a gang today, that's what it'll say on my excuse."

"It's not safe at school, anyway," Nick muttered, his face falling slightly. "It will be soon, though. Do we have a plan?"

Everyone turned to Bucky. Uncomfortable under their scrutiny, he stared down at his pancakes. "I'll need to think about it, there's a few ways we could go about this."

"Have you done anything like this before?" Nick asked, a little warily.

_I've toppled governments and ended regimes. I almost overhauled the control of the entire world. _"Sort of? But this is different."

"How?"

"I don't have backup."

"We're your backup."

"No, you absolutely are not."

"Wait, what are you saying here?" Nick asked, a cloudy expression coming over his face as he sat down. "I **am **going to help."

"Help? Yes. Storm a warehouse full of gangsters with me? That's not gonna happen, kid."

"I'm not a damn kid!"

"You kind of are, dude," Joey inputted quietly.

"Shut up, Joey."

"**Look**," Bucky growled, effectively ending the bickering between the two teenagers. "I am not bringing two civilians into what could turn into something extremely dangerous, let alone kids. I can handle it on my own, if that's what you're worried about, but I can see that it isn't." Nick dropped his gaze. "You really want revenge, I get it. Those bastards messed with someone you cared about. Joey, you wanna be there for your friend. Look, if I bring you two with me, you'd be a hindrance. Sorry, but you would, and these guys wouldn't get the justice they deserve."

"I need to do _something_," Nick responded quietly.

"And you will, I promise. But I'm still thinking of a plan, so for now, can I eat these pancakes in peace?"

Nick got up and strode outside, clearly still pissed. Joey looked over at Bucky before standing. "I'll go talk to him."

Aischa sighed and watched him follow Nick. "No matter how you worded that, he'll still be bent out of shape about it. Always wanting to help people, that's Nick." She shook her head and walked back behind the counter.

Something about her words reminded Bucky about something- someone?-, but he couldn't remember. So, he instead focused on trying to formulate his own plan, which would be difficult. During his time as the Winter Soldier, he'd been given mission after mission on a silver platter. Sure, he'd had to improvise at times, but that was nothing compared to formulating his own plan.

Bucky glanced outside, hoping that Nick wasn't too pissed off at him, only to see no one outside the store. Dread welled up inside him, and he knew that the boys had gone to the Arcane's warehouse, alone. _Nick must've talked Joey into it. Dammit!_

"Aischa! You know where that warehouse is?" Bucky called, making for the front door.

"Yes I do. Need a ride?"

"Thanks," he replied in a low voice when she was ready. "Do Joey and Nick have any way of getting around?"

"Joey got his permit last summer, but he doesn't have a car… Oh no, you don't think they went-" She stopped, gazing across the parking lot at an empty space. "They did. Stupid, stupid…"

"We need to hurry. They might do something stupid if we don't get there in time. Where's your car?"

"Over there," she replied, struggling slightly to match Bucky's gait. "I'm driving, by the way."

"…I don't think I can drive anyway." She shot him a confused look, but he didn't elaborate.

He didn't speak much during the short drive, as there was a headache brewing behind his eyes. He'd need to write that down when he had the chance. _But not in front of Aischa. _Instead, he kept his face neutral to hide the slowly growing pain.

The car screeched to a stop. "This's about a block away. I can get closer if-"

"No. If there're any cops you know that aren't Arcane, you should call them. I'll need your number. Please."

She scribbled it down on a stray piece of paper and held it out to him. As he tried to take it, she grabbed his wrist, the metal one. He froze, panicking that she might realize something was off, but she seemed not to notice. "Why are you helping? Why do you care?"

Slowly, he drew his hand back and put it in his jacket pocket, feeling a memory on the edge of his mind. "Never did like bullies," he muttered, then exited the car without saying goodbye. He rounded the corner hoping that she drove away.

-break-

"Steve, look at this," Falcon called from near the back of the bus.

Steve broke off his conversation with the bus driver with a smile and a thanks, then climbed to the back of the vehicle. "What is it?"

Sam pointed to one of the metal armrests, this one badly mangled and misshapen. "Looks like your friend's handiwork." Then, he closed his eyes like he made a mistake. "That… wasn't meant to be a pun. You get what I mean."

"What would've made him do that?" Steve wondered aloud.

"Could've been an accident. You've taken down doors when you close them to hard, Cap, this doesn't seem much different."

He exited the bus, seeking out the driver again in the station and asking "On your route yesterday, can you remember anything strange? Weird sights, people…?"

The short, stout man seemed to think it over, maybe finding it hard to concentrate with a celebrity hero around. "Well, there was one guy, but I didn't pay 'im much mind, 'til he left without payin'. There're rest-stops all through the route, right? I mean, we go for about twelve hours at a time, but this one guy didn't move, just sat there starin' at the seat. I was getting kinda worried 'bout him, actually, but he seemed fine, just like he was zoning out or something."

"Did you catch a name?"

"Nope. Skipped as soon as we stopped."

"Where was that?"

"My last stop, Saynor. It's North Cali, near Eureka. Like I said, a twelve hour drive in a bus."

Sam thanked him, and they both went back to their car. "Alright, so he came this way. Next stop Saynor?"

"Yeah… did you hear how that guy described him? He might be injured, or sick…"

Sam glanced over sympathetically and put a hand on his shoulder. "Think maybe we ought to worry about finding him first. We're getting close."

Steve let out a sigh, leaning against the door. "You're right." He wasn't just saying it this time, either.

"Great. But you drive like a 90-year-old on the highway, so I'm driving so we make it there before the next ice age," Sam claimed with a laugh.

Steve smirked and moved out of the way, grateful once again that Sam was willing to put up with him to find Bucky.

-break-

Finding the two teens wasn't hard. They lingered around an alley that looked directly at the warehouse, glaring at it suspiciously and whispering. They didn't see Bucky behind him, and didn't cry out when he put a hand over both of their mouths and dragged them backward out of sight.

He let them twist out of his grip and glowered at them. "What **the fuck **do you think you're doing?"

Joey immediately stared at his shoes, but Nick held his gaze fiercely. "Staking the place out."

"You call that 'staking the place out'?" Bucky made air quotes. "The only way you coulda been more suspicious is if you wore a damn sign, 'I am the enemy, come and get me!'"

"We weren't seen-"

"The hell you weren't. Two guys, on the roof, both armed. They sure saw you alright, but they did **not **take you seriously enough to kill you."

Joey was trembling slightly. "We- we just wanna help," he murmured, drawing himself up and reaching over, taking Nick's hand in his own. "You weren't going to let us."

Bucky looked between them for a moment, then sighed, his posture relaxing a bit. "I might've done that same." _Never did like bullies… _Seeing the boys smile suddenly, his gaze turned icy again. "That doesn't make it okay, not by a long shot. What you're going to do," Bucky formulated right then, taking out his phone. "Is call me if you see anyone else enter the building after I go in. One ring, then hang up, alright?"

"But I want to-" Nick tried to complain.

"I. Do. Not. Care." That wasn't true, Bucky was pretty sure. He cared what the boy thought, but he wanted to keep him alive more. "Stay here until I'm in." Then, he was gone. He wasn't very good at goodbyes.

"Where'd he go?" Joey asked, releasing Nick's hand and glancing around.

Nick peeked around the corner to see the man he knew as James already across the street at the base of the building. The two men on the roof- _Why didn't I see them before? Dumbass move, Nick_- didn't seem to notice anything. Then, to his amazement, Bucky grabbed a window ledge and pulled himself up to another, and another, and another, a kind of parkour he'd only thought possible in Assassin's Creed. He paused near the fifth floor for only a moment, then resumed his climb.

He'd paused because a burst of pain made his vision swim, but he soon overcame it. Nearly at the top, he stopped again, assessing the situation. _Killing them probably wouldn't be best. Go unarmed, but be careful._

The guards were on separate sides of the roof, the closest one almost directly in front of Bucky. He timed his jump carefully, then leapt. An arm across the guard's throat, pushing the head forward from behind in a simple choke. He was unconscious in three seconds, but Bucky held it a bit longer so that he wouldn't wake up equally as fast. Then, he dragged the body with him behind the doorway leading to the downstairs. When the second guard came around, he received the same treatment.

The top floor was the seventh, and it was deserted, Bucky concluded after sweeping it, pistol in hand. The firearm was just a precaution. In fact, there wasn't much of anything; that particular floor probably hadn't been used in the last ten years.

Floor six was a bit different, and Bucky heard voices echoing up the stairwell. Three of them. Stealth wasn't an option anymore; he hadn't seen any other way down. This was the only way to go.

Three men sat around a table of cards, laughing and smoking. Bucky wondered if they learned how to be gangsters from watching bad TV. The stack of blackmail money beside them completed the cliché. None of them noticed Bucky until he seemed to materialize out of the shadows behind the one with his back turned, gun pressed to the man's skull. "Don't speak."

Silence. Two bewildered stares.

Bucky glanced over at a table a bit away from them, noticing zip ties. Slowly, he moved away from the man and retrieved them, never taking the gun nor his gaze from the three men. After their wrists were secure, he tore off pieces from a jacket slung over the empty chair at the table and gagged them. They only stared stupidly after him as he glanced down the stairwell.

_Floor six: illegal cash_, Bucky documented in his mind, gliding down the stairs.

Floor five was not so accommodating. Six men, all on alert- but obviously not that smart, since their guns were all stacked in the corner. One immediately spotted Bucky and yelled out, taking a knife out of his coat and throwing it at him.

The former Winter Soldier easily blocked the sloppy attack with his metal arm, then threw himself at the enemies. Two punches, one kick, three of them on the floor. One gathering his wits enough to throw a punch, and Bucky grabbed his wrist and flipped him, driving a knee to his face on the way down.

Two scrambled away and got their guns, spun, and shot with surprising accuracy. One passed above Bucky's head, another through the loose fabric of his jacket. Two knives from Bucky, striking hand and gun, causing them to drop the weapons, and they were easily finished off from there.

Shouting from below. _Everyone heard the fireworks_, he thought to himself, shaking his head to disperse the discomfort setting in again as he retrieved the knives.

The crowd of guards were met at the top of the stairwell. Bucky had a running start and grabbed the top of the doorframe, swung his body like a pendulum, and struck the first of the Arcane in the chest. He flew backwards, slamming into his comrades, and they fell into their comrades, and it was a human domino effect on a large scale.

Few of that crowd were conscious by the end of that, so while there was more commotion from farther below, Bucky took the opportunity to search the fifth floor. He doubted any of the guns were registered, or that the drugs behind them were legal _anywhere_, so he added them to the list, too.

_That's probably enough to put _some _of them away_, Bucky thought. _But nothing specifically on Voron. Unless you cut off the head, another takes its place…_

The fourth floor was much the same, as was the third. As he fought and won, some of them fled. One Arcane yelled "Where the hell's Raphael?" before being cracked in the jaw. _Mysterious Raphael, who's apparently a badass? We'll see._

The second floor seemed empty. Bucky should've known not to assume anything, because as he made his way across the floor, red-hot pain suddenly coursed up his leg from the floor. _A charged wire, meant to immobilize, _Bucky realized, and immediately threw himself forward. A hiss of air above him indicated a near miss.

Bucky landed in a roll and came up in a crouch, pivoting and bringing out his gun. The man before him, dressed all in black combat gear with a red cloth mask, tilted his head. "Interesting."

Bucky rose to his feet, ignoring the numbness in his right leg, he'd had worse, this was nothing, _Holy shit that hurts_. "On the ground."

Maybe a smirk behind that mask? It was hard to tell. "Voron will be very interested to hear of you. Taking out most of the 'security' like a wolf among sheep. Not easily injured by electricity."

A stab of pain behind Bucky's eyes, and he staggered a step back. Raphael noticed, and took advantage of it, because he was there in a moment, striking the gun away, sending it spiraling away under a table. A jab across his face, and Bucky's vision only got worse, but his reflexes were still sharp. He immediately swept the combatant's legs from under him and wound up his metal arm, intending to put the man out for a very long time.

Raphael rolled away just fast enough to avoid the blow, and Bucky's fish slammed into the concrete, creating a crater and sending a vibration through the floor. He was up in an instant, kicking Bucky in the gut and sending him sprawling. "Strong, as well," he noted as if nothing happened. "Perhaps a bit slow. Or sick. A disadvantage, anyway."

Another kick, and another and another. Bucky blocked a few, at first, but the pain got worse and he couldn't keep his head up. Kicks turned to punches, over and over again. A roar, maybe his pulse, resounded in Bucky's head, a lightning strike shooting through him with each blow.

Abruptly, there was no pain. Raphael stared down at him, looking confused, fist hovering above his face. Maybe he tried to say something, but words didn't make sense.

Like a film had jumped ahead, Bucky was standing, the gashes and bruises already beginning to heal over. Raphael lay at his feet. His face and chest were a mess with blood, which also sprayed around the walls and stained Bucky's gloves. But he was still breathing, not conscious, but alive. _What happened? What… what did I do?_

He noticed he was surrounded, finally. His phone rang urgently in his pocket. Two dozen guards, armed with rifles, staring at him like animal control might stare at a rabid bear. Another man who stood off to the side, clad in a professional, clean suit, clapped slowly. "So this is the Winter Soldier."

Bucky swallowed the terror and disgust rising in his chest and growled out "So this is Cyrus Henley, Voron."

"Indeed. I'm glad we know each other. The Kennedy job is my favorite of your exploits, by the way."

_Kennedy? _Bucky didn't voice his confusion.

"Anyway, I never suspected we would be going against each other. I was inclined to hire you at one time, but Raphael here came cheaper. Shame. You should never trade quality for a bargain." Raphael groaned in pain from the floor, blood welling up from his mouth, but the older man ignored him. "I've already informed HYDRA that you're here. So, shall you give up now, or…"

He trailed off at the sound of sirens outside. The other guards craned their necks to see what the commotion was outside out the window behind Bucky. The attention was off him, and Bucky whispered "No."

He threw himself backward, crashing through the glass. Bullets flew, but none connected.

Bucky didn't fear heights. In that moment, though it was only a two-story drop, he got the distinct feeling in his gut that he was terrified of falling.

A shout of pain when he landed on his back awkwardly. He tried to stand, but exhaustion overcame him and he lie down again, staring up at the sky, which wasn't the color of ice, but a blue like, like _something_.

The blue was overtaken by black.

-break-

Joey jumped at every gunshot from across the street. "Are you calling him?!"

"He's not answering!"

"He didn't say he'd answer! Just keep calling."

"Why am I calling IF HE ISN'T ANSWERING-"

"**Holy shit**," Joey whispered as cop cars pulled up in front of the warehouse. "This is bad, Nick, this is really bad."

"I know," Nick muttered, typing on his phone with one hand but grabbing Joey's hand with the other. Maybe Nick wasn't much for fighting, but he was a real comfort to have around, and Joey relaxed. Friends since they were kids, having met at a cemetery of all places. Nick had been trying to get Casey to stop picking flowers off the graves, calmed Joey down when she ran off with the ones from his brother's grave. A stranger way to make friends hasn't been found. At any other moment, Joey might've pondered how it'd be if they weren't just friends, but this wasn't the time. Also, he was scared shitless that they might both die.

A window exploded, a shape falling from it and lying still on the pavement. "I think that was James," he whispered.

"What?" Nick exclaimed, redialing his number. A faint ringing sounded over the sirens. "Let's go."

There was no point in arguing. The boys sprinted across the street, weaving through the crowd of police who seemed to pay them no notice, instead proceeding to storm inside.

They screeched to a halt beside the still figure of James. "Is he dead?" Joey shuddered, hugging himself as Nick kneeled beside him and felt for a pulse with shaking hands.

"No, he's okay, we just-"

"Hello, Nick," a voice sounded from behind him, and Joey turned to see Voron, gun in hand, advancing toward them from a back door. "And you, Joe."

Joey's mind went reeling at the sight of the gun. He instinctively stepped in front of Nick and James, not really understanding the implications of his actions. He wanted to make sure his… best friend was safe. _And the guy who is maybe gonna die trying to save us. But Nick can't die either, he can't… _Thoughts that weren't making much sense.

"Noble," Voron commented, clicking the safety off. "Useless, though. It was not wise to resist-"

A car screeched around the corner. Voron turned to it in confusion, and was immediately struck by the vehicle and slammed into the brick wall of the building. They didn't know it, but he was killed instantly.

"_**Holy shit, Aischa,**_" Both boys gasped as the woman staggered out of the car.

"Language. Haven't I taught you- oh no, James!" She exclaimed, seeing his bloody form lying still.

"He's alive," Nick breathed. "We need to get him to a hospital or something. Quick, help me lift him up."

Before Aischa could protest that that would do more harm than good, Joey had grabbed his feet and lifted him up. "Door," Joey grunted, and soon they were all in the car.

"Help me get his jacket off," Nick muttered, trying to keep his cool as they sped away. "I need to see how bad it is."

"What, you're a doctor now?" Joey asked breathlessly, but complied. "How come we didn't leave him back there with the cops?"

"Still don't know who to trust. They could've been Arcane."

"They weren't," Aischa called back, violently rounding a corner. "I called a friend of mine-"

"Aischa, Joey," Nick said quietly, bloodied jacket in his hands.

Joey turned to him, curious at his change in tone, and gaped.

Bucky's metal arm gleamed in the afternoon sun.

**Author's note: Congratulations! You are the winner of a new chapter! (Which is freaking huge compared to the previous chapters, but I wanted to get in as much typing as I could this week, hence this monstrosity was born.) As per request, I included some of what Steve and Sam are up to, but I'm just saying now that there won't be much from their perspective. I've really wanted to focus mainly on Bucky, and as much as I love Captain America and Falcon, this is the Winter Soldier's story.**

**Lots of OCs this chapter… guess I have to update the character list.**

**Also, I don't speak Russian. At all. From what Google translate could tell me, 'voron' is just the pronunciation of the Russian word for raven, 'ворон'. **

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter and continue to read! Thank you for giving this story a chance.**

**~Nemesis**


	5. No Rest for the Wicked

**Captain America belongs to Marvel, as does the Winter Soldier and anyone else from the comics I would care to mention. The butt-ton of OCs are mine.**

Chapter Five

_Unlike the last time he dreamed, this wasn't a memory, it was a nightmare. So much fighting, he didn't know with whom, so much blood, he didn't know from whom. His enemies were faceless, all alike, and smothering, alive or dead, and he couldn't breathe. He was being crushed, no matter how he clawed and screamed. No control, no hope, just chaos and gore. He shouted for his best friend, but he couldn't hear his own voice._

"I think he's getting worse," Nick muttered from his perch on the chair. Bucky lay on the couch, curled up into a tight ball, twitching horribly and whimpering. Sweat stained his blood-speckled clothes, and his skin was grey-tinged and cold.

"He wasn't badly hurt," Aischa replied quietly, passing a cool cloth over Bucky's forehead, which seemed to calm him somewhat. "This must be something else."

"He's sick?"

"Perhaps." After a moment, when his sleep seemed more peaceful, Aischa stood, handing the rag over to Nick. "Since I called the police, I need to go to the station and give a statement. They were very clear that they wanted me there _now_, so I can't delay."

"But what if he wakes up?" Nick asked, ashamed at the slight tremor in his voice. This man had went out of his way to help him, why was he scared? _The fucking __**cyborg arm **__might have something to do with that, buddy._

"Just try to take care of him," she replied, though she looked doubtful about leaving him on his own.

"Yeah. I'll be fine," Nick tried to convince himself. "Before you go, have you seen Joey? He just kind of… walked off."

Aischa sighed, wringing her hands. "I think he's kind of freaked out. This has been… one hell of a day. Maybe I should stay…"  
"No," Nick protested, glancing at Bucky. "I'll be fine. It's not like he's gonna hurt me or anything."

Aischa didn't want to think of what she'd do if he did. "Fine. Just, please call me if there's any problems, alright? Or if he wakes up?"

"Sure." Abruptly, Nick stood and hugged her. "Thanks for saving my life."

She hugged him back, tears in her eyes, which she hid. "Of course, Nicky. Anytime." Then, she strode out the door, down a short hall, to the main area of Aischa's Café.

Joey wandered in soon after, staring at Bucky with apprehension. "Is he, is he okay?"

"He seems better," Nick muttered, passing the cloth over him again. "He was worse when we got him here."

Joey pulled up another chair from the wall and sat beside him. "I think we need to talk about James."

"What do you think we're doin'?"

"No, I mean… I think we both get who he is, Nick-"

"Shut up, Joey. I don't believe that." But they had both seen the news footage from the previous week, heard the description of Captain America's enemy, the Winter Soldier, who's left arm was metal with a red star.

"Nick, it has to be him."

Nick huffed, set down the cloth and turned to him. "Something ain't right, Joey. Why would a guy like that help us? Why didn't he kill Jace and Al and I when we first messed with him, when he was homeless and clearly sick? Yeah, maybe he's got a metal arm, but… Goddammit, Joey, I don't know! Maybe they had somethin' on him, like blackmail, and made him fight Captain America, or, or…"

"Okay, okay," Joey muttered. "I'm sorry, you're right. There's gotta be some explanation."

"Yeah, there does," Nick replied, and it sounded bratty even to him. "Sorry."

"'S fine."

Another moment of quiet, only broken when Bucky shifted in his sleep, two of the metal plates in his arm scraping quietly against each other. His breathing was starting to even out.

_His enemies were gone. He sat on a rooftop, gazing down across the way at a fire escape, afternoon light warming his face. After the carnage, it was a shock, but in a moment, he relaxed, taking in the warmth and comfort in case that too disappeared._

_ A window opened, and a man climbed out on the fire escape, and even from this distance Bucky could see his black eye and short stature. He smiled at him and waved, and Bucky felt himself wave back. He stared in amazement that his arm wasn't metal, but flesh and blood and bone._

_ The man disappeared back inside, and after a while, Bucky heard a metal door open behind him, and he turned to see the man from across the way. Blonde hair, too-big suit, ready smile, bright eyes._

_ "Hey, Steve," he heard himself say, though his voice was a little higher, a little younger. _Steve? That's ridiculous, _Bucky thought, thinking back to the Captain America he knew from the bridge._

_ "Hey, Buck," the boy replied, sitting down next to him, swinging his legs over the side. "How're you?"_

_ "Better than you. 'Nother fight?" Bucky's voice asked with a sigh._

_ "Eh, you know."_

_ "I'm serious, Steve, you can't keep on doing this. You're gonna get hurt."_

_ Steve chuckled mirthlessly, rubbing his shoulder. "Kinda late for that. Guy was yellin' outside Registration, I didn't even pick a fight this time, he just swung."_

_ "Registration? Damn, Steve, how many times is this?"_

_ "Only three, Bucky, it's not that many. When are you gonna come with me?"_

_ "I'm not, I told ya."_

_ Steve looked immensely disappointed, but said nothing more about it. They had clearly had this conversation before, and didn't want to go another round. Instead, he sighed and stood up. "I gotta go, I've got work in an hour."_

_ "Don't do anything stupid," Bucky called after him, turning to look up at the sky, which was a deep blue, starting to fade to black. He felt the ache of sadness rising in his chest. _This is what we were like? Oh, Steve…

_ "How can I? I'm leavin' all the stupid with you," Rogers replied, happiness in his voice, before he was gone._

_ Only a few minutes later, just when it was getting dark, did Bucky go inside and down to his apartment. There were spots of clutter, but it was mostly centered in the kitchen. The rest of the apartment that Bucky could see was clean and plain._

_ He bent down, retrieving the mail a neighbor must have slipped under the door. "Huh," Bucky muttered aloud to himself, closing the door behind him. "Don't usually get mail."_

_ He sat down at the table, tossing a few envelopes in a small pile to be thrown out later. Then, he froze on the last envelope, recognizing the US Army seal. "No," he whispered, and Bucky felt his fear, his shock, the deep sadness echoing in his mind. He was to be drafted. Steve wouldn't make it without him._

"You were gonna save us," Nick remembered, recalling how Joey had stepped in Voron's line of fire, separating him and James from the Arcane leader.

Joey just shrugged, his face turning a little red. "Couldn't let you guys die."

"…You know, I kinda want to thank you, and I kinda wanna hit you."

"What? The hell would you do that for?"

Nick smiled a little, looking down at his hands. "You're my best friend, dumbass. I'd dragged you into that, and you could've died tryin' to protect me. Us. Don't do it again."

"Screw you, man," he replied softly, understanding where he was coming from. Joey leaned against his shoulder, suddenly feeling exhausted. "Long day, huh?"

"Yeah," Nick agreed, resting his head on Joey's. "And school's not even let out yet."

Bucky mumbled something, rolling over, and both boys stood suddenly. "James?" Nick asked, hand on his shoulder. "Can you hear me?"

"Ugh. Sorta." The man muttered, eyes opening only slightly before shutting again. "Ow."

"What's wrong?" Joey asked anxiously.

"Headache. Keep it down," he replied almost inaudibly, blinking slowly and looking around the room. "Wha… where am I?"

"Aischa's. You were hurt, so we brought you back here."

"Hmm. Why?"

Nick and Joey exchanged a glance. "Couldn't exactly bring you to a hospital, James."

"I…" He looked at a loss for words, staring around in confusion. "Why'm I cold?"

"Because you're not wearing a coat. Had to take it off to make sure you weren't-"

"What?!" Bucky exclaimed, sitting up. He ignored the world spinning, and the spikes of pain in his head. His metal arm gleamed softly in the dim lights of the back room. "Nonononono…"

"James, take it easy," Nick said in response to what he knew to be the beginning of a panic attack. "It's fine, it's okay."

Bucky dragged his gaze away from his arm and it fell to Nick first, then to Joey. His eyes didn't look so intimidating now, they seemed broken. "You weren't supposed to… no one's supposed to know. This can't happen, it can't." _Poor guy looks on the verge of tears, _Joey noticed with some pity, all thoughts of assassins and superheroes out of his mind.

The ex-Winter Soldier winced suddenly, eyes screwing shut. "You know, then."

"Yeah," Nick responded. "I know you stopped the Arcane from messing with us. I know you risked your life, probably almost died doin' so. Doesn't matter what else."

"Doesn't matter?" Bucky choked out. "'Course it does."

"So what?" Joey spoke up, not looking away when the man looked over at him. "We've all got things we regret, some more than others. Seems like you aren't that guy the country saw in DC, so yeah, it doesn't matter what you did."

"Some things matter," Bucky said softly, dropping his gaze as he remembered the rooftop, Steve chuckling while being reprimanded brotherly by who he used to be, the worry he felt with that piece of paper marked with stars and stripes, not knowing the future and not caring to think too hard on it. _Some things…_

Nick and Joey didn't know how to respond to that, and were saved from doing so by a knock at the door. Bucky jumped violently, right hand scratching the red paint on his shoulder furiously in agitation. He relaxed a bit at the half-familiar voice through the door. "Guys? It's Alicia and Casey, can we come in?"

Nick had turned away and didn't see Bucky shaking his head furiously. "Sure, just don't be too loud."

The door opened slowly and Alicia stood there, hands on the shoulders of a younger girl who bore an uncanny resemblance to Nick. Alicia was smiling, but it faded quickly when she saw the state Bucky was in. "Whoa, what happened to you- sonofabitch you're the Terminator."

Casey was staring around the room blankly, apparently not noticing them. "I'll explain later, Alicia. Casey? Hey, how you doin', kid?" Nick said gently, standing up and hugging her.

The girl half-heartedly hugged him back, then pulled away. "Hi, Nick. And Joey. And Alicia. And-" She stopped when her gaze rested on Bucky. Her face instantly brightened, much to everyone's surprise. "Bucky, Bucky, Bucky Barnes!" she yelped in a sing-song voice.

Nick looked at her, confused, then noticed the astonished look on Bucky's face. "Is that your name?"

"I, um, yeah." Bucky stammered, staring at Casey in amazement. _How did she know that?_

"Casey, how do you know… Bucky?" Joey asked, just as bewildered as everyone else.

The girl tapped her foot in excitement. "'Cause he's Bucky Barnes! He's a…" She looked at the ground and concentrated, like the thought had slipped away for a moment. "…Howling Commando!" she exclaimed, triumph on her ecstatic face.

Nick started to gently remind her that those were just her comic books, that the Howling Commandos weren't around anymore, but he stopped, remembering that Bucky Barnes was James' actual name. "Oh my… god, you're Bucky Barnes?!"

"Bucky Barnes!" Casey squealed again, spinning in a circle while everyone else gaped.

It took him a moment, but James finally nodded, a genuine smile appearing on his face for the first time Nick had seen. "Yeah. That's me."

Casey still spun around, occasionally stopping to grin at Bucky. Nick and Joey stared at him in amazement. The quiet was finally broken by Alicia, still in the doorway, when she whispered "What the fuck?"

-break-

In a hospital not far away, a man known only as Raphael woke up with a start. He gasped for air, then remembered that he was not, in fact, drowning, but 'safe' in a hospital.

He lay back, a sigh escaping his lips. A glance at the shadows in the corner of the room. "I assume you need something?"

A short man dressed in a clean suit- much like the one Voron used to wear- stepped out from the darkness, a bit of a smile on his face. "Good eyes."

"Mediocre ears. You breathe like an asthmatic bulldog. Now what do you want?"

The smile on the man's face vanished. "Are you aware that your organization was under the command of HYDRA?"

"In collaboration with, yes." Raphael didn't like this man, but his presence was interesting.

Said man frowned. "My name is Agent Saunders. I've been asked to give you a proposition from my boss, Director Caballero."

Raphael raised an eyebrow. "Proposition?" _Definitely interesting._

"The man you fought was named James Buchanan Barnes, otherwise known as the Winter Soldier."

_Oh. So __**that's **__why I lost. _"Is that so?"

"Yes. He had… faulty programming, and has defected. We propose that you should be the one to find him, given proper recovery and resources."

"Why?" he immediately asked, suspecting subterfuge.

Saunders smirked. "We've had very little trouble tracking Barnes thus far. What we've had difficulty in is _keeping _him. You're the only one who's come close."

Raphael glanced at the ceiling, thinking back to the fight. How he had _assumed _that he was winning, when Barnes had just stopped being affected by his blows, the look in his eyes becoming cold, uncaring, empty. Then, an explosion of rage, there was no way he could've stopped it. _And the pain… _"I was not effective last time."

"Well, we're willing to give you one chance. Then, you will have help."

"What kind of 'help'?"

Saunders sighed, pulling a cell phone from his pocket. "Do you want the job, or should I tell my boss you declined?"

After a moment, Raphael shrugged, ignoring the agony shooting through his chest. "I suppose I will give it a go."

-break-

"So, let me get this straight; you're Captain America's best friend-"

"Sort of," Joey interjected, earning a glare from Alicia.

"Yeah, 'sort of'. Anyway, you were an assassin for a while-"

"Brainwashed," Nick piped up, earning the same glare.

"But you overcame it, but you're still on the run?"

"That just about sums it up," Bucky confirmed. Now that his headache was gone and he had a better grasp on reality, everyone had dragged chairs over and formed a circle to talk. Casey had insisted on sitting between Nick and Bucky on the couch, apparently not minding the disgusting smell even Bucky was beginning to be aware of.

"Huh. Wow," she muttered, leaning back and running her fingers through her red hair. "Where does the C3P0 prosthetic factor into this?"

Bucky assumed she was referring to his bionic arm. "Um… got hurt, fell off a train. And a cliff."

"Ouch."

"You're tellin' me."

Joey leaned forward a little. "So, you don't remember a whole lot?"

"Nah. Bits and pieces. Usually when I'm asleep, or unconscious, like before."

A knock at the door, and Aischa poked her head in. "James, you're awake! I told you to call me if he woke up," she scolded Nick, who glanced away sheepishly. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," he replied, and didn't get another word in before the teenagers rapidly explained the situation.

Aischa seemed to catch the gist of things in the whirlwind of information, because her eyes widened. "Oh my… James? Or do you prefer Bucky?"

"Either's fine," he replied, shifting self-consciously.

"Okay. James, my father was in the 107th. He remembered you. He'd always tell us stories how, when he and everyone else were captured, you always tried to keep their spirits up, that's what really got him through it, he thought."

"Aww, he's blushing!" Alicia exclaimed, noticing Bucky's face turn a shade redder.

"I, um, thanks, Aischa, but I'm afraid that I don't remember much from back then…"

"And that's alright. I just thought you should know." She smiled at him, a little sadly, before suddenly remembering something. "Okay, so I went to the police station and bullshitted that report so greatly I could've been paid for it. But, James, I thought you ought to know, they found the HYDRA symbol on some of the uniforms of the men arrested."

Bucky's eyes widened, his hand tightening around the armrest. "They were HYDRA?"

"Seems like it," she replied, pulling up another chair- there seemed to be an abundance of those. "They also found guns, money, lists of names. You know, criminal stuff."

"Holy shit," Nick whispered, looking at his hands. "I was HYDRA for a while."

"Whoa, you hung out with a few of HYDRA's Junior League. Someone, get SWAT in here, we've got a hardened criminal," Alicia proclaimed dramatically, pulling Nick out of wherever his mind was and he grinned.

Bucky took the opportunity to turn back to Aischa. "Did they find anything else?"

The woman nodded. "Yes, but they didn't know what it was. Computer gibberish, they thought, but there was a date on the paper as well."

_Nothing's random with HYDRA. _"Do you remember what the paper said? If you saw it."

She smirked, digging in her coat pocket. "Better, I got a copy."

The date was one day in the future, and it meant nothing, but Bucky thought something was familiar in the way the letters were arranged. "Do you have a pen?" he asked. Immediately, three were thrown at him, before accepting one handed to him by Casey. "Thanks."

"What're you doing?" Joey asked after a moment's silence.

"Caesar shift cypher. But it changes each letter, so I guess it's more like a Vigenère cypher? Whatever you call it, you need a keyword. H-Y-D-R-A is what they used before. I think, it's still kinda fuzzy. Anyway, it's code. Then, transfer the letters to numbers, and you get the coordinates."

"Coordinates to what?"

"No clue." When he finished, he studied the numbers carefully. "Looks like this is in… Oregon? Yeah, this isn't familiar."

Abruptly, he stood, and everyone moved their chairs back some so he had room. "Whatever's there, I need to go see before this date."

"What, you're leaving?" Alicia asked incredulously, Casey's face falling.

Bucky didn't look at them, just stared at the ground. "HYDRA is tracking me, anyway. If they know you helped me, or even _talked _to me, they'll… I need to go here. They won't stop unless I stop them, and maybe this place holds the key."

"We can help," Nick protested, Joey nodding in agreement.

Bucky gave them a sad smile. "No, you can't. Not this time, guys."

"Well," Aischa spoke, standing as well. "We aren't letting you out of here looking like a bloody garbage heap."

"Hurtful," he replied, only teasing a little because she was right.

"Just a sec," she requested, then turned and swept out of the room. A few minutes later, she returned, a bundle of clothes in her arms. "Hope these fit. They're my husband's and he won't miss them, but you are a bit taller than he is. Bathroom down the hall, with a shower that I insist you use. Then, haircut."

"What's wrong with my hair?" he asked, taking the clothes, remembering that he had cut it not even a week prior.

"What's wrong with it? It looks like you used a knife on it!"

"…I did."

Aischa sighed, throwing her hands in the air. "'Course you did. Go get cleaned up."

A short time later, Bucky was ready to go. Well, not ready, per say. He and the group stood outside the diner, his old backpack slung over his right shoulder. Aischa had found it her duty to stuff as many non-perishable food items into it as she could, after noticing that the new shirt was tight on his shoulders but rather loose on his stomach. "I know these aren't pancakes, but they'll do," she had replied when he protested.

"Thanks, again," Nick muttered. "You gonna come back some time?"

"'Course I am. You guys have my number, right?"

They all nodded, Alicia checking her phone again to be sure.

"Well, guess I'm-"

The doors to the café were thrown outward and Casey ran out, papers in hand. "Take it," she ordered, practically shoving the pages at Bucky. "It's you!"

This wasn't a Captain America comic book, it was the 'Howling Commandos', and the illustrations were amazing. It was clear that Bucky was the one in front, standing shoulder-to-shoulder to a man with a bowler hat and a regrettable mustache. Other than them, there were four other men on the cover, all striking heroic poses. They were all smiling. Their names were listed at the bottom, names Bucky remembered from when HYDRA had first found him, who he wanted to be safe. _My friends._

"Thanks, Casey," he told her, his voice cracking a little.

She nodded earnestly. "You can read the rest later when you're done saving the world."

No hostile voice in the back of his mind, no doubt or hatred reprimanding him for believing now that he was doing something good. "Sure thing."

"That's my favorite one," she warned him, poking his arm. "Be careful with it."

"I will. See ya 'round, kid." A quick look at the others. "Bye guys."

"Bye," they all chorused, sounding terribly sad. Casey was the only one smiling.

-break-

Just outside Saynor, Sam got a call on his cell phone. After answering, he listened for a moment before his eyes widened. "What? Thanks, Detective, we're on our way. Yeah, Steve's here, bye." He hung up and glanced over at Steve from the driver's seat. "A gang was just broken up, and apparently they were run by HYDRA. Three dozen arrests or so, leader taken out."

"You think Bucky did it?" Steve inquired, sitting up.

"I had a friend keep a lookout for weird activity, and this is the weirdest they got. Not to mention a pedestrian saw an 'unknown person' scale the side of a building like it was the easiest thing in the world."

"How far away are we?" he asked, his voice serious as he glanced at his watch. It was only midday, not evening yet. _We could catch up with him soon…_

"'Bout an hour, with no traffic."

"Okay. Okay, great," Steve murmured to himself, trying to relax, but couldn't stop a smile from appearing on his face.

**Author's note: With this story, there's going to be many story arcs, and Nick and the gang were in on one of these arcs. They will return, but probably not for a while. **

**Also, this chapter may not have been very action-oriented, but we're building up to something big, trust me.**

**Once again, thanks so much for reading! (Over 100 followers?! You guys are the best, for real.)**

**~Nemesis**


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